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sua_layAuthor: Rimau Sua Lay
Rating: overall NC-17, Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure, First Time
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Harry/Snape, Ron/Draco, (Sirius/Remus)
Date: December 2002 - May 2007
Disclaimers: Not mine, borrowed without permission, am not making any money. Please don't sue. Sherbet Lemon?
Summary for Book Five: - It's time to try to save the world. Fools and idiots may be the wizards' only hope. Revenge does indeed taste strange. Kinda furry.
Warning: This part contains deaths, gore, total stupidity, explicit sex between men, disturbing themes and angst.
The earlier parts of the fic can be found here.
There were a few gloomy stares aimed at both Snape and Harry the next morning as they walked to the Headquarters together, but no one said a thing.
It grated on Harry, making his skin crawl. There had been no comments about the way Snape was so obviously staying with him and his family, but somehow the silence was worse than anything.
If there were words, he could respond to them somehow; even though he didn't really believe in explaining himself, he could make it absolutely clear that he knew what he was doing.
Now there was just the oppressive silence and surprised looks following them into the meeting hall, the stares intensifying as Snape took his place next to Draco Malfoy until the tension was almost suffocating.
Harry sighed, and took the empty seat next to Snape.
Soon it seemed like people had already began to discuss something far more important than professor Snape's possible new quarters.
"So, when exactly will the final battle be?" asked Sprout.
The enthusiastic nods coming from all around the table chilled Harry, because he knew there could be no answer. You could make plans and have perfect strategies, and still there was no telling when a battle would be the last one. All they could really plan was the first big battle and hope there wouldn't be another one.
Arabella Figg scoffed. "Who cares when? I'm more concerned in where. The Death Eaters seem to be completely happy with rampaging all around the country, burning a house here and another one there."
Excited babbling followed her words as everyone felt the need to voice their theories or more questions.
"Don't be stupid, Arabella," Hooch's comment could be heard even above all the noise, her voice that was perfectly suited for coaching Quidditch players echoing in the room without the aid of a sonorus. "Where do you think it will be?"
Ignoring the way Sirius smirked at the prospect of having the two ladies start a real fight, Harry cleared his throat.
"Of course! Hogwarts! Oh, that was silly of me!" Sprout fussed, looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry about that."
People smiled at her, no one even trying to challenge what she had just said.
Arabella Figg glared at Hooch.
"Yes, Hogwarts," Harry muttered before anyone could say anything they might -- or might not -- regret later. He knew his words would sound like an affirmation and was glad he wouldn't have to form any other lies.
He once again wished it would be as simple as that; the final battle, the war fought between him and Voldemort only, the hero conquering the bad guy in time for everyone to go home for tea.
He pushed that firmly out of his mind.
"So what can we do about it?" Sprout was still talking breathlessly, as if trying to ask anything to keep the conversation flowing so that the women on either side of her couldn't continue bickering.
"We need to talk about what will happen when the Death Eaters attack Hogwarts," Harry said, ignoring the bad taste the sentence left in his mouth. It wasn't at all certain that the Death Eaters would come, at least any time soon, especially if things went on like this.
Voldemort's people attacked, killing people and starting fires all over their world. The Order and the Aurors hurried there to put out the fires and then bury the dead. As long as it was as simple as that, Voldemort wouldn't have any reason to risk all he had on a full blown attack.
Sitting back, Harry gestured at people to talk about the situation amongst themselves, encouraging them to voice any and all ideas they had. It wouldn't change most of the plans they had already made, but maybe someone would say something they hadn't thought about yet.
He tuned out the buzz of people all talking at the same time, knowing that it would be a waste of energy trying to concentrate on everything that was said now. Some of the ideas would be undoubtedly ridiculous.
But there would be good ideas, solid plans, and most of all, enthusiasm to face the enemy.
Harry didn't know if he could really feel good about it. He knew the realities better than most people in this room.
They had already beaten Voldemort in a way; they'd robbed him of his dream victory. Harry had known that the morning after his birthday, when he had been alive and well and definitely not bound somewhere in the cellars of the Malfoy Mansion waiting to be executed.
Yet they still had a long way to go, especially if their plans failed and there would indeed be no great battle where Voldemort would bring his followers to meet the army following Fawkes' banner.
It was a gloomy thought, one that Harry had always tried to banish before. The mere idea of having to fight in small skirmishes for decades was enough to ruin his day, but he couldn't just ignore the fact that it might actually come true.
Why would Voldemort risk a battle when they were so equal in strength and he had nothing to really worry about? Both sides had a solid leader and people willing to fight. Of course they also had mindless fanatics -- Harry only had to look at where Moody and his fellow Aurors sat to remember that. They had people with courage and skills; excellent in Potions and Charms, but so did Voldemort. Old seasoned wizards and those who had just recently left school, ones who would probably tuck tail and run.
Those who would fight till the end.
Harry swallowed. Yes, there would be deaths, people he knew, people who were even now here in this room with him. Voldemort's people did have one thing they didn't; they had the Dark Magic and the willingness to use the Unforgivables. They had been trained to kill, unlike his people.
It was obvious the old school Aurors could kill. Some of the teachers might resort to the ultimate violence as well, especially if they were protecting the school and former students. Harry knew that there were others, like the Weasleys, who had already lost too much to simply settle with ordinary charms.
But the truth was, most of the others would try to fight an honest fight, no matter how hard they'd tried to teach everyone to survive, and that would be the reason they lost.
Trying to shrug off the uncomfortable emotion, Harry tried to think about the qualities they had and Voldemort's didn't. He was stunned by how hard it was to think of anything that would be of use.
Honesty and reason and sanity were great qualities, but wouldn't help them in a fight. Not when the enemy were going to cheat and use madness against them.
At least people seemed to be eager to form a plan, the noise level still rising in the room. Such a far cry from those early meetings where everyone sat quiet and waited for the orders or then milled around, trying to look like they weren't absolutely terrified by all this.
There was Snape muttering quietly with Draco and Blaise, both younger Slytherins listening avidly, Blaise nodding every once in a while. Remus and Hermione were clearly having some ideas, both leaning closer to each other and muttering quietly while Sirius watched them with a benign expression on his face. Some of the Hogwarts staff were arguing about something, with Hooch and Figg staring at each other angrily.
Harry decided not to ask what that was all about.
He could see Ron frown where he was sitting next to Hermione and clearly finding some flaw in whatever she was saying. The expression was familiar, usually accompanied by a very clever move on the chess board.
That had been a surprise, one Harry wouldn't share with his friend. Ron could actually see both the big picture and the finer details if he concentrated on them instead of being pig headed about something else. The strategies Remus was now scribbling down on a piece of parchment weren't unlike ones used in wizarding chess.
Still not saying a word, Harry kept looking around the small room. Everyone was talking out loud, some of the younger members of the Order were also gesturing with their hands. There were some good ideas, coming unavoidably from the few Muggleborn, who had broader horizon than the ones raised in the wizarding world. Harry understood the strategic value of a surprise. Fighting with Muggle strategies would certainly be that.
But it wasn't enough.
Harry looked away from Ron, resting his gaze on Draco Malfoy for a moment, still amazed to see the calm expression on his face. He saw Dumbledore and McGonagall whisper to each other, saw acceptance in the eyes of Arthur Weasley as he listened to a younger witch, whose eyes shone with zeal and innocence.
Wherever he looked, he could see good people, dedicated people. But that wasn't going to be enough if they didn't make sure they were all going to be able to deal with their plans.
In a short while, the small discussions exhausted around the table, and everyone turned back to stare at Harry. For once, he didn't mind the expectant looks; there were plans, old plans that had existed for some time now, and it was about time for them to finally discuss them and then continue training so that they could actually do what they had planned.
"All right then. We need to make sure everyone knows what to do in battle. We shouldn't let Voldemort's people inside Hogwarts, but they can do enough damage from the outside. There's a lot to cover; the lake, the Forbidden Forest, the grounds..." Harry waited for his words to sink in.
The horror so evident on the faces of most of the professors were the truest indicator that this was indeed their worst nightmare.
Harry didn't give them time to really panic. "Let's start from the beginning. Albus. What will you do if the Dark Lord invades the school grounds?"
Everyone turned to the Headmaster.
There was a fierce glint in Dumbledore's eyes. "I will stay at the courtyard and guard Hogwarts. That is my task. I do believe the house elves are more than happy to help me with it." His smile was knowing.
"Yes, the house elves will help, as will the ghosts." Not bothering to acknowledge the curious looks everyone cast at her at the comment, McGonagall added, "I will stay as well." She looked at Dumbledore as if there would be objections.
Dumbledore stared at her for a moment before nodding slightly. "I would be most delighted to have you there by my side."
Harry refused to let his control slip and roll his eyes like Snape had a moment ago. He was rather proud of that. "Good. What about the rest of us?"
It was easy from then on. People seemed to realize the importance of team work, and in no time, there were basic teams set to guard over all the important places surrounding Hogwarts. There would have to be more, small teams going to deal with Voldemort's operations elsewhere, but this was not the time to discuss that. This was also not the group of people that needed to be involved in that conversation; secrecy had become a second nature to Harry, but he could see so clearly how it was the only way in a situation like this.
He had already known that Dumbledore would not leave the school and that as the deputy Headmistress, McGonagall would stay as well, guarding Hogwarts till the end. If Hagrid came back in time, he and others would cover the grounds where his hut had stood, if not, that would be the job for some of the younger Aurors. Those with more experience like Bill Weasley and Moody and the rest of the survivors from the first Voldemort war would lead others.
"And what will you do, Harry?" Eyes gleaming with excitement, Ron turned to look at his friend.
Harry smiled at him. "What I do best."
There was a confused silence that was broken by Draco Malfoy's soft, "We're going to play Quidditch?"
A few younger Aurors snorted with laughter at that, casting disbelieving looks at the Slytherin who was suggesting something as stupid as Quidditch at the moment like this.
Harry on the other hand smiled even wider. "Yeah. We're going to play Quidditch." Considering his skills, it was either flying or then challenging Voldemort into a chocolate eating contest. Somehow he didn't see the latter plausible, no matter how insane the Dark Lord was.
After a moment of disbelieving shock, realization dawned on some faces. Harry could see it on George's face a moment before Charlie caught on and let a satisfied grin bloom. Oliver Wood actually let out a gleeful little 'yes' and high fived Angelina who was sitting close by.
Harry tried to remember all the stories he'd ever heard in the locker rooms or the pitch, and with every story there were more names he could connect to the faces all around him.
It was Madam Hooch who finally said it out loud and ended the weird looks most people were casting at the former Quidditch players. "You're talking about a wizarding air force?"
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm talking about." That was absolutely the place where Harry wanted to be when it came time to act; high in the sky with a broom underneath him, a wand in his hand and people he trusted by his side.
Some of them were probably out of condition and some had left that part of their lives behind, but they could all still do it. Flying was in their blood.
George was saying something to Charlie, repeating 'WAF' so often that Harry was certain there would probably be T-shirts with that coming up next. He ignored that, concentrating on the way Charlie looked at him and nodded with gratitude plain on his face.
Harry didn't know if it was anything to be grateful for; even with a bum leg, Charlie could fly and fight. Otherwise he might have not been able to fight at all.
Such thoughts were stupid, and Harry knew it. There was no force on earth that would keep the Weasleys from the battle; they would crawl on broken glass to face the Death Eaters.
Hooch was beaming happily. "I think that's an excellent idea!"
Those she had once guided in the art of flying were nodding all around the room.
Hours and hours of training helped now. There were no silly questions or complaining; people actually managed to get into groups with designated group leaders. This wasn't about meaningless classes or training for curses most had never heard of.
Harry let his people work, content to watch them move around the room and find the team that would most likely need their expertise. He noticed that some people were gathering together in silence and nodded at Remus who was quietly standing between Sirius and Snape.
Their work would be different, but no less dangerous than standing on a battlefield facing the enemy.
"I must say you're rather good at this," came the soft words nearby.
Harry almost jumped. He turned to face Arthur Weasley who was standing next to him with a familiar look in his eyes. "Well at least now I know where Bill got the habit of sneaking up behind people... And yeah, I guess I must be."
"You're hating every moment of it, right?"
When had Mr. Weasley got so perceptive? Harry didn't know, but right now he was rather glad for it. "Yeah." He didn't even have to ask if the feeling was mutual; it was clear that Acting Minister Weasley wasn't exactly rejoicing in his new status either. "But someone has to do this."
Arthur looked around, and when he saw no one was close enough to hear his words, he muttered, "Will this do any good?"
This time the amazement showed on Harry's face, and there was a lot of respect mixed with it. "Yes. I believe that it will. I can't really tell you..." There was an apologetic shrug. "But yeah. This will make all the difference in the world."
"But there are other things as well?"
Harry agreed, "Yes, there are other things as well." Their plans were far from simple, but right now, the wizarding world had to concentrate on this.
Arthur was quiet for a moment, looking at his sons who were all gathering together and talking enthusiastically, especially Charlie, who had been rather quiet about the battles until now. "You will tell me if you need me and the Ministry to do something, won't you Harry?" He turned to Harry, seeing in the young wizard's expression that he wouldn't have to wait for it.
There was already something important he could do.
"Let's hear it then!" It was the one way Arthur could really thank this man who was the best friend of his youngest son and who was giving him and his family a chance to avenge Fred's death. "What do you need?"
Looking into Arthur Weasley's eyes, Harry sighed. It would come to this; their world had always known that one day there would be a battle raging outside Hogwarts, the school grounds filled with witches and wizards trying to kill each other and dodging those who had already fallen, the wounded and those who were dying. There had always been whispers, as if the legend of the Great Harry Potter had already been written in the minds of the people
Voldemort would come, for that was what evil Dark Lords did, and Harry Potter would stand tall and resist, for that was what heroes did, and no one ever questioned that.
"I need to talk with you about one of the warrants you made," Harry said quietly. He knew all too well that he could simply tell Arthur what he wanted to be done, but right now, he couldn't bear with another half truth.
"Yes?"
Glad of how calmly Arthur Weasley was standing there and waiting for him to explain, Harry mused out loud, "We gather here in Hogsmeade, but I think everyone sees Hogwarts as the center of our world."
"That sounds about right." Amazingly, there was an amused glint in Arthur's eyes. "We all expect Voldemort to march here. No one's talking about the battle at the Ministry or anything like that."
Harry nodded. "Yes. And everyone knows about Voldemort's main strongholds."
The amusement disappeared from Arthur's gaze in a second. "Like the Malfoy Mansion." His expression clearly stated that he would be perfectly willing to go and tear the place down stone by stone, with his bare hands if necessary.
"Yes, like the Mansion," Harry agreed. "But I can't remember ever hearing anyone saying anything about Tom Riddle's old home. Not even after you issued the warrants on his arrest; specifically on him as Tom Marvolo Riddle and not just as Lord Voldemort."
There was a short silence as Arthur stared at him with an incredulous expression on his face, amazingly looking exactly like Ron after he'd walked in on Harry touching Snape's arm. The incomprehension slowly melted, leaving steely resolve behind. "The Riddle house?"
Harry nodded again, knowing he didn't need to explain his plan further. "The Riddle house."
